


Quench

by BewareTheIdes15



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Drinking, Consensual, Established Relationship, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BewareTheIdes15/pseuds/BewareTheIdes15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s okay, baby,” Jensen shushes him before he even gets started on a more thorough apology, “You’re supposed to tell me when you need it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quench

**Author's Note:**

> The second of my Halloween creature!boys fics - for ladytifere's prompt: [alp](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alp_\(folklore\))

“Jay!”

Jared ‘s body flushes lightning-hot as he jolts awake, breath gusting in on deep heaves from coming back to himself so suddenly. His eyes twinge as they fight to adjust, painting the cobalt-black of midnight in shades of grey – their bedroom, the TV, the dresser, the bed, and slowly, Jensen, his shape resolving as Jared’s consciousness finishes slithering back into his own skin.

His boyfriend is sleep mussed, pillow lines marring one cheek, hair spiked up in eighteen different directions. His eyes are slits, like they want to fall closed again, but the hand he shook Jared awake with is still tight on his shoulder and his lips and cheeks and chest are flushed, blood close enough to the surface that Jared can smell the sweet iron tang.

“Shit,” he hides his eyes – probably doing that creepy reflective thing - behind a clammy hand, “I’m so sorry.”

There’s that fuzzy feeling all over his insides that tells him he isn’t quiet settled in his body, like a band-aid clinging floppily by stretched speckles of glue. Damnit, it’s only been seventeen days. If it wasn’t for that stupid harness screw-up on set this wouldn’t even be a problem, but healing always takes it out of him and he couldn’t very well walk around with cracked ribs for the rest of the episode.

“It’s okay, baby,” Jensen shushes him before he even gets started on a more thorough apology, “You’re supposed to tell me when you need it.”

“I thought I could hold off for another couple of days. I didn’t mean t-“

“I know. I know,” With an easy push, Jensen closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to Jared’s. The plump swell of them still simmers with blood where Jared’s astral self had obviously been sucking on them in his dreams. Want jitters restlessly in his veins at the feel of it, mouth flooding instantly wet.

A whine slips out of his mouth when Jensen pulls back, but the painful inches of cool space between them are short-lived.

“It’s ok. C’mere.” Jensen’s fingers tangle in Jared’s hair, a gentle guide as he lays back until Jared’s covering him, mouth hovering over the dusky, tempting nub of a nipple. In a decade, maybe, Jared’s going to get over the way they fit perfectly into place together.

Jensen’s skin smells sharply of unsatisfied lust, rising off of him like gasoline fumes that ignite in Jared’s lungs. It’s tempered by the lazy warmth of sleep and cream-rich trust, not a second’s hesitation in offering this up. One more nudge of pressure at the back of his head and Jared gives in.

As if he ever really stood a chance of resisting.

With the way Jensen’s been under his skin from day one, Jared just counts it as a win if he manages to keep his hands to himself long enough to make it look like Sam’s not constantly hot for his brother’s dick. According to the fangirls, he’s not particularly successful.

For the first couple of slow minutes Jared just sucks at the skin, playing at a build neither of them really needs with the flick of his tongue against the little nub as it hardens to a peak in his mouth. Jensen moans loosely, still far enough into his REM cycle to let the noises pour unrestrained past his lips. Fingers tangle in Jared’s hair, holding him in place and urging him on at the same time.

They haven’t really talked about this in depth since that first tentative go around a few years ago when Jared finally got the stones to admit to Jensen what he really is and damn the stereotypes that come along with it. Jensen had been very open about the whole thing, moreso than Jared could have hoped for after spending most of his life undercover to keep from being sent to special schools or stuck on watch lists. He’d asked the polite questions which, after a few more beers, had turned into some not so polite but at least honest questions which had somehow – Jared’s memory is still fuzzy on the specifics – turned into Jensen sprawled out on the couch with his shirt rucked up under his arms as Jared sank his fangs into him for the first time.

Not talking about it doesn’t mean that they aren’t on the same page about it, though, or that this is some dirty shameful thing they have to hide away from the world. It’s more like there’s no need to talk about it, because like this, with his mouth working at Jensen’s body and his teeth just starting to graze the skin - like this he knows every last thing about Jensen straight down in his bones.

Above him Jensen hisses, breathless, his fingers flexing and releasing in Jared’s hair, body arching underneath Jared’s to try and get more. The hard length of his dick is a wet velvet lick against Jared’s thigh, searching for friction that Jared willingly provides with a roll of his hips.

On the next thrust down Jared mounds the heavy, muscular flesh between his teeth, creating a tight suction until he gets just the faintest taste of blood in his mouth through the skin and Jensen starts to keen. And then he lets his fangs slide home.

He’s read enough vampire lit over the years – half morbid curiosity, half obsessive need to understand it from the other side – to get why humans fetishize the whole blood thing, but it’s not the same for alps. Sure, it’s the _symbolic fluid exchange_ and yeah, it can be sexy as hell – they’ve done this plenty of times with one buried deep inside the other and it never fails to be anything less than mind blowing – but at the end of the day, it’s not as easy as tossing a label on it like ‘sex’ or ‘food’ as if it fits into any one category.

It’s a big deal to do this; Jensen voluntarily making himself weaker just to help Jared stay grounded, and there’s a connection in it regardless of what some of the ‘Free Feeders’ would like people to believe. Jared’s gone through his experimental phase, fed just about every way possible – supplements, blood bags, random hookups, one or two very close, understanding friends – and nothing compares to this. The satisfaction of doing this with somebody he cares about and who cares back. It fills him in ways nobody before has, ways he didn’t even realize he was starved for until Jensen gave it to him like it was nothing at all.

He can taste it underneath the spice of desire, the way Jensen feels, the way Jensen _loves_ him. And it’s not that Jared’s ever had any doubt about that – the crap Jensen has to put up with from him, even without the blood-sucking-dream-molesting parts, nobody would be crazy enough to stick around if they didn’t mean it – but to hold it right there on his tongue, feel it coat his throat with its thick, copper-penny bite, down into his stomach to pump slowly out into his limbs with that sweet heat; that’s something else altogether.

“Jay,” Jensen breathes, voice a rough skid of gravel road. Jared pulls in another slow mouthful of metallic sweetness, dragging the swallow out so he can paint the jut of Jensen’s nipple red only to lick it clean again. Jensen’s still bucking against his hip, working his body in a mindless drive toward orgasm as he dirties up Jared’s skin with slick.

Jen’s not the only one who’s hard, but that not for right now. Yes, the feeding is good with sex, so good Jared can hardly see straight in the middle of it, but at the moment the needy throb in Jared’s balls is a distant second to the work he’s doing with his mouth.

His venom is starting to seep its way into the tiny, pin-prick wounds, webbing out underneath Jensen’s skin in burning, invisible lines that will say ‘Jared’s’ to anyone with the right senses to recognize them, marking him up in a way so intimate that Jensen’s human body can’t even process it.

It’s also making him go a little wild under the weight of Jared’s body. He writhes and twists as if he can’t decide whether to pull away or push closer when they both know perfectly well he’s not going anywhere. The rake of fingers through Jared’s hair in more nails on scalp than petting now, trying to force him this way and that to get more out of it. Jensen’s other hand is busy at the opposite side of his chest, plucking at his currently unoccupied nipple until it’s a tight, flushed knot that has Jared growling hungrily around the mouthful of blood he already has.

It doesn’t actually have to be the nipples for him any more than it has to be the neck for vamps – it’s just a preference, something ingrained deep enough into his DNA to be its own craving. Luckily Jensen gets off on having his tits played with – as much or more than any girl Jared’s ever been with and yes, that lights Jared up like a candle every single time – and in the couple of years since they got together, it’s developed into a full-blown fetish.

For both of them.

There’s nothing quite like knowing that with a casual brush of his arm or a hand splayed just so on Jensen’s chest – little things no one would even notice with Jared’s touchy-feely reputation – he can tease them both to distraction, let it build and build while the rest of the world watches, oblivious to the fact that they’re going to be all over each other the second they get behind a locked door.

One more rough suck and another swipe of his tongue to encourage the wound to close and Jared lets himself be manhandled over those few sweat-glossy inches to where Jensen’s prepared himself, drawing in the hard peak of his other nipple and biting without hesitation. A sharp bark of sound jerks itself up from Jensen’s quivering stomach, rush of endorphins leaving him a shaking mess. He’s leaking all over Jared’s skin, their dicks brushing together at random intervals and could anyone really blame Jared for wanting to eat Jensen alive sometimes? God, this man.

There’s a rattle in Jensen’s chest as he tries to suck in breath around the _so-close-so-close_ searing like boiled honey in his blood, coursing through Jared’s too as he swallows it down. Jensen is all heat and sex and everything Jared’s ever wanted in his whole godforsaken life and they’re right at that brink, that razor-thin blink of time when the lines white out and they’re almost the same person, rocketing toward the cliff with the brake-line cut.

Jared’s hand wrapped loose around the head of Jensen’s cock is all it takes, the first hard, wet spurts of come coating his fingers before he can even give it a milking pull. From there whether Jared’s close enough to getting off himself is a moot point because his body can’t, won’t, flat out _refuses_ to tell the difference with Jensen’s pleasure telegraphed across his tongue in scarlet.

Jared sucks them both through the aftershocks with lips gone slack and sex-stupid. Jensen never seems to mind the mess Jared ends up making of his skin or the inevitable rusty smudges on the sheets even though he’s the most OCD guy alive about every other facet of his life.

Jared suspects it has something to do with the orgasms.

And maybe, just a little bit, with the bright, silky feel of ‘forever’ that’s left tingling on the insides of Jared’s cheeks.


End file.
